


Fish and Fir Trees

by Rose_of_Pollux



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M, Slice of Life, light slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 16:36:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13150641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: In which, during a mission, Napoleon and Illya find themselves in the middle of nowhere during the holidays--and Napoleon is a bit disappointed and homesick.





	Fish and Fir Trees

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ksturf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ksturf/gifts).



Napoleon sighed as he and Illya made themselves comfortable in the old cabin. It wasn’t unusual that they were on a mission during a holiday, but it was difficult for Napoleon to accept sometimes. The hardest part was calling home to tell his parents that he and Illya wouldn’t be able to visit them again; Cora and Leopold’s disappointment was evident, though they tried to hide it. And Napoleon’s own disappointment was evident, as well.

Illya was of mixed emotions. In the past, he never celebrated Christmas, but once he had met Napoleon and had gotten close to him, he found it impossible to not celebrate with Napoleon—Napoleon’s enthusiasm for the holiday, as well as his parents, had been endearing to Illya. And besides that, Illya loved Napoleon, and anything that made his beloved happy was something he would enjoy, as well.

And so, Illya knew that he would have to do his best for his partner to help with his disappointment. This was going to be a challenge—particularly in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, trying to hide from THRUSH. Napoleon was roasting fish over the fire—the only source of protein he had been able to acquire since their provisions had begun to run low in the forest.

 _Very well, if Napoleon shall provide the feast, then I shall provide everything else_ , Illya silently declared.

And while Napoleon was preoccupied with making the fish perfect, Illya was able to accomplish what he had sought out to do. At last, Napoleon transferred the fish to two plates, which he had garnished with a few herbs.

“Well, it’s not much of a Christmas dinner,” he sighed. “But at least we’ll be eating well tonight. There isn’t much of a dining room here, either; where do you want to eat?”

“How about by the Christmas tree?” Illya offered.

“Christmas tree? We don’t have a…”

Napoleon trailed off as he noticed Illya standing beside a large branch he had taken from a fir tree, which had enough smaller branches to look like a miniature tree. Illya had propped the tree upright with some rocks, and had then decorated the tree with the ribbon of a worthless decoy audio cassette tape that they had taken in the hopes of finding THRUSH data on it; more than a little frustrated that the cassette tape had been a dud, Illya had consoled himself by pulling the ribbon out of the tape. It seemed now he’d found a practical use for it—replacement tinsel for their replacement tree.

Illya had further decorated the tree with a few brightly-colored pebbles to serve as replacement ornaments, held in place with small amounts of the industrial-strength adhesive that was part of their equipment. A small piece of quartz served as a makeshift star.

“What do you think?” Illya asked. “I know it isn’t much compared to the tree we would have had at your parents’ place--”

But Napoleon had already put the plates of fish down in order to take Illya in his arms and kiss him.

“It’s beautiful,” Napoleon said. “…But nowhere near as beautiful as you are.”

Illya smiled shyly.

“You flatter me.”

“Maybe a little…” Napoleon admitted. “But I still mean it.”

Illya smiled, and the two of them soon feasted on the fish—and it was the most appetizing fish they’d both had in a long time.

Once dinner was over, the duo spent the rest of the night in front of the fireplace, Illya gently snuggling against Napoleon as he wrapped a blanket around the both of them.

“Illya?” Napoleon asked. “Thanks. For everything.”

“I am always glad to make you smile, _Dorogy_ ,” Illya whispered back.

And Napoleon was smiling indeed—and still was as they continued to snuggle against each other as the fire crackled on.

The cabin was warm—and so were their hearts.


End file.
